Sunday, December 22, 2013

Ever get the feeling that no one
understands you? That you don’t
understand anyone? That the whole world
seems to operate on some sort of plane, different than yours? That’s not a feeling, you dimwit, that’s the
first coherent and intelligent thought you have ever had.

Probably the only one, too.

It’s All An
Experiment

“Earth”, as you call it, is a
petri dish. A lab experiment. A reaction of chemicals made up by beings
that wanted to see what would happen if – to put it in terms you can understand
– you put a human into a microwave and hit ‘Start’. What would happen if you put a human being
into an environment that they are not suited for, and kept exposing them and
exposing them to outside influences?
What would happen if you put a human being into an environment and told
them they had “free will”? What would
happen if they believed it?

It’s a simple premise,
really.

Mind you, our intentions were
honorable. Purely scientific in
nature. We were rooting for you. To show our faith in the experiment, we
provided you with the mantra of our home planet. Translated roughly, it sounds like this:

Be Kind.
Do No Harm.

Without translation, it sounds like this:

Slerch.

This was the only imbedded message we gave you. Scouts honor.

You guys screwed up. Big time.

***

Where to begin? Where to
begin? Let’s start with War. This is probably the biggest screw-up in
human history.

Morons.

The lot of you. You’re blowing each other up, destroying
everything that you built and that was given to you, for what? Money and Power? You never realized that those things mean
nothing. These things are made-up
tinker toys that you created. These
things aren’t tangible. These things are
meaningless. War after war, over the
same thing – and you never learned your lesson.
Not once. Not one single time. Money made you hungry and power made you
blind. We watched, astonished.

We have no word for what it is you do to one another, other than:

Morons

Without translation, it sounds like:

Morons

***

With that thought in mind, let’s move on to the hatred of differences in
your world. The history of enslaving
your fellow human based on flesh tone, the history of hating your fellow human
due to geographical location, the history of hating your fellow human based on
practices that made you uncomfortable.

Seriously? Have you seen where
you live? Have you seen your human form lately?
In our world, you are all the same.
You live on “Earth”. This is the
dumping ground for all different sorts of bacteria and living organisms. This is not a compliment, if you haven’t yet
caught my drift.

“Earth” is the end of the road, Jack.
“Earth” is Skid Row, Downtown, Wrong- Side of the Tracks, Down- and-out
ain’t-comin-’ back, Jackville.

You all live on Earth. You are all the same. You haven’t ever realized this. You’re all in this together, yet you tear
each other apart.

You know what we call people like
you, where we come from? “People like
you ,” being a colloquialism from “Earth”:

Morons

***

One thing leads to another, and
we end up with the monetarily disadvantaged, the under-wealthy, those without
coin.

All contraptions and devices you
made up in order to form some sense of superiority from one another.

How utterly human to create a
system that provides a way to track the sale and worthiness of goods (goods that
you didn’t create and you don’t own, mind you) - and then revere or revile those
who own or don’t own the lot of them.

From our perspective, one is
doomed to both succeed and fail, respectively. Those with the most, those who
are revered, are more than often NOT the ones who obtained such goods to begin
with. Those with the most just know how
to keep the most.

Those with the least, those who
are reviled, are the ones who are locked out of obtaining more. Well, at least more than those who are
revered want them to have.

We have a saying for those on
your planet that are deemed the “haves” and “have nots”. Unfortunately, it can’t be translated without
the use of words that are deemed “inappropriate”.

***

We’ll end our review with the
highlight of all subjects. The most
hot-button subject of all. The subject
that has torn the Earth apart since the beginning of time:

Religion

On Earth, some are believers in a
religion, some don’t believe in anything at all. Some are intense believers, and some are
not. There are many different religions
on “Earth” - most of which carry a standard theme of love, faith, and
tolerance.

We are not here to determine what
religion comes from the Creator. We are
not here to determine if there is a Creator.
We are not here to determine if any religion is right. We are not here to determine if any religion
is wrong.

We are here to tell you that, as
members of “Earth”, you are universally wrong when it comes to the execution of
religion.

Religion is the set of ideals
that you follow to do right. These ideals can be structured in to a formal
religion. These ideals can be personal
to your own organism. These ideals might
not be a religion at all. The root of
all of this is to follow what is right.

Humans fight in the name of
religion. Kill in the name of
religion. Die in the name of religion.

As a whole, humans have yet to
understand what true religion actually is.

***

We watch our experiment, as it
went from infancy to adulthood. We have
had proud moments. We can’t say that we
haven’t.

Like any Ant Farm, we have seen
numerous leaders emerge, some just and some unjust. We have seen the little ant rise, we have
seen the mighty ant fall.

What is universally true. What occurs without a doubt in every
generation of our experiment, is this:

Thursday, December 19, 2013

This thought repeated through her
mind as she sat on the bus, headed West.
She liked to say “headed West.”
It sounded mysterious and full of dark adventures. In reality, she was headed to Ohio or Indiana
or Illinois. Which was West, so it wasn’t a lie.
It just didn’t have the same allure as saying, “headed West.”

The bus hummed along the interstate,
its passengers nodding off to the steady rhythm of the wheels surfing the
highway. Or they were just pretending to
nod off so they didn’t feel obligated to talk to each other. The thought repeated itself and she agreed.

A peculiar thing, people are.

What was bringing her out West,
you ask? An excellent question. She had business there, let’s leave it at
that. Let’s leave it sounding mysterious
and full of dark adventures.

She pretended to yawn and
stretch, in order to get a better view of her travel companions. What she saw
was neither shocking nor ordinary.

A peculiar thing, people are.

***

The seat next to her was
empty. Although the bus was almost
filled to capacity, no one had decided to sit next to her. She wondered if she should feel lucky or
insulted. A quick sniff test proved that
her armpits were not offensive. She had
showered that day and her hair was clean.
She decided she would feel lucky.
Simple as that.

The closest person to her sat
across the aisle. This was the closest
person in proximity, not in affection.
Just so we get that straight. Squashed
next to a rather large man who had started snoring before they left Port
Authority in New Jersey, sat an older gentleman. He was the only person on the bus she was
sure wasn’t pretending to nod off – the large man, not the older gentleman that
is. No person could keep that level of snoring up for so long. Then again, you never know.

A peculiar thing, people are.

The older gentleman sat stiffly
in his seat and looked straight ahead.
As if a rod was keeping him upright.
As if he was given a command to look nowhere else! Only straight ahead! Regardless of what you see or what you hear,
never deviate from that directive, soldier!
That’s what he looked like to her, anyway. She wondered if had seen battle. Other than everyday life, that is.

Next to him, the rather large man
snored on.

In front of the large man, along
the window, sat a tall woman with an incredible amount of hair. On her head, that is. From this vantage point, she couldn’t tell if
the woman was all-over hairy, or saved all of her hair for her rather large
cranium. This tall, hairy woman, had the
over-head light on and was reading a magazine.

From the rather glossy pictures of blindingly white smiles, it was a
pretty good guess that this was not a literary magazine.

Every third page or so, the woman
would dog-ear a corner of the magazine. Her
guess was that this woman was picking out styles for her over-abundance of
hair. But who knows.

A peculiar thing, people are.

Next to hair-lady, sat a man in a
black fedora. With a black band and red
feather. The hat, not the man. It was impossible to tell his age since it
was very clear he had more plastic in his face than Barbie and Ken. Combined.
He was an interesting sort.

Neatly dressed, pressed, and
ready to light your filtered cigarette, this man seemed at odds with the rest
of his surroundings. She wondered why he
was taking a bus. He looked to be the
sort who drove in a white stretch limo and would rap on the divider between
chauffeur and passenger with the end of a heavily embossed brass cane. Not the sort who ride on a bus in to the night,
headed West.

A peculiar thing, people are.

Directly in front of her sat a
mother and child. The child was on the
aisle, and the mother took the window seat.
She was curious as to how that arrangement came about. Kids usually wanted the window seat, even if
it was pitch-black out. Mother’s usually
wanted their kids to have a window seat too, that way no glassy-eyed, staggering
maniac would snatch her baby.

Glassy-eyed, staggering maniacs
are quite common on bus trips from New Jersey to out West. She had read about this in the “General
Safety Tips” brochure that was at the bus depot before they departed. The section wasn’t titled “Glassy-eyed,
staggering maniacs”, but that was for legal reasons.

She was still flummoxed as to how
the seating arrangement came to be. The
mother obviously wanted her child to snatched by a glassy-eyed, staggering
maniac, she decided.

A peculiar thing, people are.

She had only caught a glimpse of
the people sitting in the rows behind her.
Even an artful yawn and stretch couldn’t yield a decent view.

This much she had seen:

A woman two rows back sat with a
soft carrier on her lap. It was probably
a very small puppy or a cat. She
couldn’t rule out the possibility of a research monkey, however. She was doing her best to keep her eye on
that crate.

A peculiar thing, people are.

A man three rows back and one
over brought a guitar case on to the bus.
The driver had argued with him when boarding that the “bus was full-up,
and there’s no room for musical instruments to be transported within the
cabin.” The passenger flatly refused to
surrender his guitar case and the driver gave up. She was convinced he was transporting
contraband across the border. His life
depended on the safe delivery of said guitar case. Only after this delivery was made, could he
rescue his beloved from the hands of her kidnappers.

A peculiar thing, people are.

Next to our guitar case carrying
hero, sat a plain looking woman in her 30’s.
Not unattractive, or attractive.
Almost see-through, really. She
would make longing sideways glances at the guitar case carrying hero, not
minding that at every turn of the bus, the neck of the case would stab her in
the shoulder. She just knew he was the One.

A peculiar thing, people are.

The rest of the bus faded out in
to blackness. A few reading lamps
remained on, a few coughs and grumbles were heard, but those were just sounds
from the darkness.

In front of her, she could see
the glow of the dashboard, and the headlights of the oncoming traffic.

She let out a sigh and placed her
head against the cool window. She was
headed west. For business.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Emily was vaguely aware that something
was poking her in the arm. As she slowly
awoke from her uncomfortable slumber, the poking became more intense. She turned her head to the left to see the
grin of a dinosaur head protruding from a long stick. Being as she wasn’t quite yet awake, Emily
sprang up and shrieked. Only then did
she realize that one of her nephews was sitting on the floor, stifling
a fit of the giggles.

Great, Emily thought. Another joyous family gathering with the
Spawns of Satan.

***

“Hey, Joe. You might want to go talk to your demon
child. He poked me with his T-Rex and I
told him how Dinosaurs became extinct. As
far as he’s concerned, ‘Aunt Emily’ made it happen ‘then’, and she can make it
happen ‘now’,” Emily said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“That’s just great, Em. The kids see you…what? Maybe twice a year? You can’t even pretend to be a little happy to see them too?”

“I am happy to see them,
Joe. I’m just not overflowing with
delight when a 6 year old wakes me up with a head on a stick. Call me crazy.”

“I’ll call you something, alright…,”
Joe muttered as he went off to find Kyle.

Emily’s mother Beverly was
watching the conversation with pursed lips.
She loved having Emily and Joe visit for the Holiday, but the differences
in the two always made things a bit uneasy.

“You know sweetheart, you are their Aunt. You really should try and become a part of
their lives a little more. These days go
by so quickly, and before you know it POOF, they’re gone. You don’t want to look back and have regrets.”

“Mom, I’m just not a kid person,
OK? How many times do I have to say
this? It’s nothing personal. But 6 kids?
Joe and Cindy really should find another pastime. And don’t try and scare me with the 'POOF, they’re
gone bit’ either.”

Emily poured herself another cup
of coffee and took a seat at the table.
6 kids. Joe and Cindy. Mom and Dad. Emily. That made 11 people sleeping in one
house. Not to mention the 25 or more
people who were expected over later that day to celebrate the Holiday.

Emily had driven 2 ½ hours to get
to her parent’s house, only to be stuck on a cot in the den. She couldn’t even have her old room, because
that was claimed by 3 of 6 the kids. She
sulked in silence and wished she could have just stayed at home and ordered
take-out. Like any normal, single 30 something.

***

The day was hectic. The doorbell rang constantly and coats were passed
off to waiting arms and then dropped off in the master bedroom. Food was everywhere, the fire was crackling,
and half of the entourage was gathered around the piano, singing a pitiful
version of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”.

“It’s like a freakin’ Holiday
movie in there,” Emily thought as she rinsed the dessert plates and loaded the
dishwasher.

“Come on out to the party, Em,”
Joe’s wife, Cindy, beckoned. “There’s
always time to do the dishes. We’re so
rarely together as a family.”

“I’ll be out in a bit,” Emily
said with a false grin without turning around. “Just want to finish up these
last few dishes.”

“Ok. But you don’t want to miss the next
sing-a-long. It’s going to be one for
the record books!” Cindy left Emily
alone in the kitchen, as she returned to the chaos in the family room.

It’s not that Emily didn’t like Cindy. Cindy was sweet and gentle. Kind and motherly; warm and welcoming. The traits that Emily just couldn’t
understand and, frankly, felt were beneath her.
Emily was a woman with the world at her feet. Cindy, only 8 years older, already had tied herself
down with 6 kids, a husband, a dog and a canary. “Ugh.”
Cindy said out loud to herself. “Just.
UGH.”

***

As the night wrapped up and the
last of the revelers said their goodbyes, Emily stayed in the kitchen – finding
something to do.

“I wish I could just go home
already,” she said out loud, not meaning too.

“I think that would probably be
for the best, dear,” her Mother responded.

Emily turned around, not aware
that anyone else was in the room. She
felt her blood rush to face and her cheeks flush.

“Mom. I’m…I… I didn’t know you were in here.”

“No, I suppose you didn’t. Doesn’t really matter though, does it,
dear? You make it perfectly clear that
you have no desire to see your family – be it you nieces and nephews, your
brother and Cindy, or your father and I.
We don’t make you happy, I think you should go and do what does make you
happy. Whatever that may be.”

“Mom…”

“I’ll finish up in here. You go pack your things. It’s a long ride.”

***

Emily woke with a start.
Her heart was racing and sweat was dripping down her back.

“Always the same damn dream,” she moaned to herself.

Emily looked at the clock next to her bed. It showed 12:44am. She wanted to call someone. She needed to talk to someone. But there was nobody left.

Ever since Joe and Cindy’s car accident 10 years ago, the
rest of the family had shattered and scattered. It was just too much. An entire family…gone. POOF. With
no hope of second chances.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

“It’s just so syrupy sweet! Life isn’t like that, and the more they try
to tell us that “this is what romance
looks like”, the more we will always feel like we’re falling short of providing
OR receiving the real thing. It’s a
farce. One way to sucker women in to
believing that men like that actually
exist, and another way for men to feel that woman are just sappy little vapid
creatures who really only want to be taken under a strong man’s arm and swept
away. Frankly, it does more harm than Slasher
films. At least everyone watching those
gore-fests know that it’s made-up Hollywood crap. No one expects to go camping and have a hockey-masked-wearing,
revenge-seeking-zombie chasing you with a machete. These schlocky romance films become something
people aspire to be. Give me Jason or Freddy anytime.”

“Is that the end of your tirade
Anna, or do you have any more lessons in romance you’d like to offer?”

“Don’t be patronizing,
James. We’re being spoon-fed this false
ideal of love, and everyone seems to be swallowing it down…willingly! Not only THAT, but people are actually waiting
in line and paying an absurd amount of
money on movie tickets in order to be
shown what “romance” really is. Where
has that gotten us? The divorce rate in
the US is over 50 % alone. And that’s
being generous. Maybe we should spend a
little less time dreaming of passionate kisses in the rain, and a little more
time living in reality.”

“You’re such a bleeding heart. I don’t know, Anna. I like romance movies. I don’t believe that what happens on screen
translates to how my life should be led.
I’m not a puppet. I just like to
see a happy ending. Shoot me. And if you
didn’t want to go to the movie, you should have just said so.”

Anna rolled her eyes and shook
her head, making her earrings twirl in the darkness.

****

They continued their walk in
silence, each deep in their own thoughts.
Anna and James had known each other a long time. It was going on close to 30 years since they
first met at the municipal park of their hometown. They had both grabbed for the same swing, and
an instant friendship was formed. Since that
day, they had always been in each other’s lives – either face-to-face, or
through phone calls and letter writing, now sending emails.

They’ve never been intimate. They’ve always just been friends. Well, that’s not exactly true. James had tried to put the moves on Anna once,
when they were both tipsy on plum wine, but it was awkward and clumsy and
embarrassing. They never talked about
the experience again. They both never touched
plum wine again, either.

James was married and going
through a divorce. Anna had never
married. Neither of them had children.
Both of them successful, almost mid-aged adults who seemed to be an odd friend
match. Anna was direct and
abrasive. James was easy-going and liked
to please. Anna made a To-Do list for
everything, James just winged it. Had
they met as adults, neither would have given a second thought to the
other. As it was, however, they both
couldn’t imagine their lives without the other.

***

James coughed a little to break
the silence.

“Speaking of romance, Anna
Banana, when are you going to settle down with that heart-throb Richard?”

“Don’t call me Anna Banana, and
why should I “settle” for anything? Much
less settle “down”?”

“Good Lord, you are in a mood
tonight. What happened? Did a flying farm house drop on your sister?
Jeezus.”

James shrugged. He knew Anna well enough to let her be. She meant no harm, and was the kindest person
he’d ever met, once you got over her scaly exterior and venomed tongue.

They trudged down the avenue,
peering into storefronts and making meaningless small talk until Anna felt
ready to begin.

***

“The thing is, J...I don’t
know what I want anymore. My whole life
I worked towards a career, focusing on climbing the corporate ladder, achieving
more, earning respect. Now, I’m not
sure why. I don’t even particularly like
what I do. It’s just what I’ve always done.
It’s what I expected of
myself. It’s what others expected of me.

“Watching that sob-fest tonight
just opened my eyes to that fact. I’m no
different, no better, no stronger than any of those women running in to the
arms of their knight in shining armor.
It’s what was expected of
them."

James listened and nodded, understanding
that Anna was finally coming to a realization that he had come to years
before. She was fighting a battle, but
only with herself.

“I’m not sure what to do with
myself. Let’s face it. Richard’s a nice guy, but do you actually see
us together? What’s that lyric, “we’re
just two lost souls, swimming in a fishbowl, year after year”. That’s how I feel about us. Never connecting, floating through this
world, confined to our habitat. Is this
love? Is this…it?”

The rain had started to fall and
was picking up in intensity. Anna didn’t
seem to notice, and James didn’t mind.
He stood there, watching her look more lost than he could ever remember
her looking, and more real.

She caught sight of him staring
at her and tilted her head to one side, questioning without saying a word.

“I’m glad you’ve finally realized
what I’ve known all of these years, Anna.
Your climb to the top was your way of avoiding anyone, anything that
might hurt you. You achieved success,
but are still lacking that one thing that will make you complete.”

James inched towards Anna and
gently lifted her chin with his hand.

They kissed. The type of kiss that can only be described
as passionate; in the rain and underneath the flickering lamp-post. They kissed.
And all of their troubles melted away.

***

“What in the hell was that?! We finally have a strong woman to look up to.
One who says it like it is. Breaks down the fairy tale romance machine that has
been building since before I saw Disney’s “Cinderella”, and with one rainy
night and one clichéd epiphany, she’s gone?!
Poof?! Another damsel rescued by
the clear-headed gentleman? Why did I
pay to see this movie? I could watch
countless commercials on TV for more entertainment value and less money!”

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Please don’t, Sarah begged. I can’t. I can’t have another day like this. This song. These lyrics. This isn’t my life. This won’t be my life.

“All the folks around Brownsville, say she’s crazy…”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. I’m not crazy. And I’ve never been to Brownsville. I just forgot to take my medicine and when I forget to take my medicine I start to see things, and when I start to see things, life gets cloudy…

…cloudy.

Sarah knew that she could take her medicine now, and she did. She also knew that it wouldn’t help. She had passed that window where her thoughts would be cleared up by taking anything. She was going to have to ride this “crazy train” – as she called it – until the last bell whistled.
The crazy train came with a soundtrack.

“In her younger days they called her ‘Delta Dawn’…”

In my younger days I was called Sarah Sunshine. ‘Sarah Sunshine’ had a smile that would light up a room. That’s what Mom always said, anyway. My smile was written about on report cards in elementary school and discussed at length between class mothers. “That Sarah,” they would say, “She must be the happiest child I’ve ever seen in my life.” “Sarah is always ready with a smile,” the teachers’ comments would read.

Sarah Sunshine.

My Mom stopped asking years ago whatever happened to Sarah Sunshine. It’s easier not to talk about these things.

“Prettiest woman you ever laid eyes on…”

Sarah Sunshine grew up to be Sarah Venable.

Back then, I certainly didn’t consider myself pretty.
When I look at those pictures though, I see why I had a lot of boys sniffing around my door. I see now how a simple glance thrown over my shoulder, might have made a man think it was an invitation to discuss the finer points of…well, whatever he wanted to discuss. I see through the eyes of Sarah Venable, looking at ‘Sarah Sunshine’. That girl still lit up the room, even when she tried to kill her light.

“Then a man of low degree stood by her side…”

Why does the damn song always have to go dark? Can’t it just stay positive?

Sarah was lying down now, and still riding the crazy train. She hated this particular stop. This stop always turned sour and dark; giving off the stench of a windowless room that hadn’t been opened for decades, and was leaking ancient water. Next stop: Goodbye Sunshine Town.

I didn’t fall for a low-down scoundrel. I fell for a man with a smile. I fell for a man who could light up a room just by the thought that he might be there. I fell for a man who was everything Sarah Sunshine wanted, and everything Sarah Venable received.

Matthew was a man that pleased everyone. This, of course, is an extremely polite way of saying that he wore many faces. There was always a difference between Sarah Sunshine, who seemed to exude light, and Matthew, who directed his light directly through you. Sarah Sunshine fell for the light, like a moth to a flame. It was too late before Sarah Venable realized the mistake.

“And promised her he'd take her for his bride…”

Sarah Sunshine didn’t realize her wings had been singed until it was much too late. A ring on her finger and a faraway look in her eye, she carried on. Captivated by Matthew’s light and hypnotized by his sheer force, she was entranced.

Good things happened, and bad things happened. I can’t say I’m unique. I can say that the blinding spotlight of Matthew killed Sarah Sunshine. More like evaporated her entire existence. Sarah Sunshine ceased to exist. In a world owned by Magnificent Matthew, Sarah Sunshine became obsolete.

“Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on…”

I’m not wearing any damn flower. Any my name is Sarah. Sarah Venable. I’m an adult woman who is just having a rough day. There’s no flower. There’s no need for a flower. I’m Sarah Venable. Sarah Sunshine wore the flowers.

“Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?...”

My flowers from days gone by are dead and buried, don’t you hear? Don't you listen? I don’t wear any flowers, I don’t own any flowers, and there are certainly no faded flowers around me.

Sarah was itching in bed, knowing the crazy train was taking her for its ride, but unable to control her emotion. Was she the flower that was pined for? Was Sarah Sunshine her flower? Had she let herself fade and die?

“And did I hear you say he was meeting you here today…”
I’m not meeting anyone at any time, ever! I’m gone. Sarah Sunshine is gone. He’s gone. The train station is full of people waiting for other people. If they’re riding the same train I’m on, they’re in for one hell of a ride.

Sarah beat on the windows to warn the passengers not to board the train, but no one listened. They never do. They boarded one by one, but never appeared.

“To take you to his mansion in the sky?...”

The train rolled itself forward from the platform, and began its climb upwards into the mountains ; a steep climb that seemed to go on to the clouds. Sarah was happy the journey was nearing its end.

I know that this is nothing but a dream. A dream in which I have no control, but one I must ride. I know that much is true. I know that life is what you chose, and so I make my choice.

Sarah Sunshine rode the train to the mansion in the sky until the tracks were no longer visible

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Emily found herself in a most difficult spot.One she knew she couldn’t get out of.She had tried her best to repay her debts and
to make amends, but everything had gone wrong.She took small gasps of air, trying to conserve the little she had left.

She was in way over head.Literally.

***

She sat at a dingy corner bar, one she had never noticed
before. She ordered a drink with the last of the money she had on her, along
with the last of her dignity.She had
lost everything at the casino, and owed everyone she knew money.She had been down this road before, but never
this far down.She supposed she could just take off and
leave all of her debts unpaid. Her family and friends really should have known
better than to lend her anything anyway.She knew she couldn’t do that.She might be a degenerate gambler, but she still had some semblance of
humanity to her.She was just about to
leave, when the first of them walked over.

“Looks like you’ve had a rough night, missy,” the stranger
said.“Would you mind if I bought you
another of whatever you’re having there?”

“Thanks, but no.I
was just on my way out,” Emily said.

“Nonsense.Lemme buy
you a drink. I promise, I don’t bite,” he said with a smile and a wink.

Emily smiled.He
looked like a nice enough man, and old enough to be her father.He was just trying to cheer her up, and she
could use some cheering up.

“Ok, thanks a lot.It’s
been a hell of a night and I could use another.It’s a vodka tonic with lime.Or
something that looks vaguely similar to a lime.”

“Terry, get – err, what’s you name anyway, Miss?”

“Emily.My name is
Emily”

“Terry, get Emily a vodka tonic and try to find a lime that
isn’t moving this time,” the stranger said.

After the drink arrived, she sat and talked to James.He told her that his family owned the
bar.“Murphy’s” it was called,
apparently.She hadn’t noticed the sign when
she came in.He explained that Terry was
the usual bartender, but he filled in on occasion.He introduced her to almost everyone else in
the bar, all of whom were Murphy’s.Her mind
reeled as she tried to match each face with each name:Patrick, Dennis, Kevin, John, Mark,
Michael.There were Juniors and Seniors
in there as well.She could keep only three
straight in her mind:James, who had
approached her, Terry the bartender, and Kelly, the only other girl in the
establishment.

“Is there some sort of a rule that you have to be a Murphy
to come in here,” Emily joked, downing her 3rd vodka.

“No, no,” one of them laughed.“But we don’t let just anyone in.You have to earn
your way in.You have to be worthy.”

As the night went on, Emily felt herself beginning to loosen
up and share her troubles with the clan.They seemed understanding, and best of all, willing to help.She felt like she had known them all of her
life.

“It must be nice to have a family that’s so close,” she said
to the group.“You all seem to really
have each other’s backs. “

Emily swore she caught sideways glances between each of the
family members, but she knew she couldn’t trust her senses.She was how many vodka tonics deep and couldn’t
be certain of what she saw.She shrugged
it off to paranoia and spending too much time with the underbelly of humanity,
rather than with decent people.Like the
Murphy’s.

***

She woke up the next morning in her apartment, unsure of how
she had even gotten home.She stumbled
out to the kitchen to get some water, and saw the cash stuffed envelope on her
countertop.

“What the hell,” she muttered out loud.

She picked it up and counted the contents.$10,000, all in hundred dollar bills.She looked around her to see if this was some
sort of a joke. She looked out the window,
and all she saw was her beat up Toyota sitting in its parking spot.There was a note on the counter that read:

“Lovely to meet you last night, Emily.So glad we can help you out of your jam.Here’s the cash to pay your family and friends back.

We’ll be in touch. “

-The Murphy’s

She replayed the events of last night in her mind, but could
only get sketchy fragments:Drinks, laughing,
crying, hugs, drinks.She couldn’t
remember asking for money.But she didn’t
remember getting home, so she could hardly trust her senses.

She took a quick shower and divided the money into separate envelopes,
one for each person she owed.

She was paid off in full.She had never felt so free.

She drove to the corner where she was certain the bar was,
but there was nothing there except a vacant lot with twisted fencing keeping
people out.Signs reading:“No
Trespassing” and “Violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law”.

Emily stared at the concrete slab and fenced in lot; long
enough for an elderly gentleman to ask if she needed directions.The passerby looked very familiar, but Emily
could not place him.

“I must be on the wrong block,” Emily said nervously.“I’m looking for ‘Murphy’s’, it’s a bar I
went to last night.I thought it was on
this corner, but I must be mistaken.”

“Murphy’s,” the stranger said.“You’re a day late and a dollar short, my
dear.Murphy’s was here.And Murphy’s burned down 20 years ago.”

The passerby’s eyes twinkled and he smiled.“Oh, it’s possible, missy.My mind isn’t what it used to be.”Emily felt uneasy, but couldn’t place her
finger on it.

“Sorry, but can I ask you one more question,” Emily
inquired.“D-do you know how it burned
down?Were people injured?”

“They never could say.The whole family went up in smoke with it, or so the myth goes – they never
found any bodies, though.If you ask me
though, it’s better off.They were a
nasty lot.”

The man walked away and left Emily standing in front of a
vacant lot that had just given her $10,000.

***

Weeks passed.Months
passed.Emily hadn’t gone back to the
casino’s and was trying to put the “Murphy’s” situation out of her mind.She got through each day by telling herself
that it wasn’t “Murphy’s Bar” she had bellied up to.It must have been some other hole in the wall
dive bar.As for the money, she couldn’t
explain that one away.She did pay
everyone back, though, and even had a little left over for herself.

After the 3rd month, Emily received a knock on
her door.

It was late and she looked through her peephole to see who
was calling on her.No one was
there.She walked away and the knock
came again, louder this time.She opened
the door, annoyed at neighborhood kids playing a prank.

Standing before her was the entire Murphy clan.

“How?Wha-,” she
stammered, as they entered her apartment.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about us, Emily,” one of them said
with a smile.“We had a deal. Remember?”

“You should sit down, honey,” another said.“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Emily stepped backwards into her chair and sat down with a
thump.Her eyes, darting from one face
to another.

“How have you been, Emily?Things going well?I hope you’re
staying away from those casino’s.” The voice was familiar.She remembered James.He was the older gentleman who had a wink in
his smile, the one who was old enough to be her father. He had aged
considerably from what she could remember.

“I’m..I’m doing well, thank you,” Emily said, with a forced
smile.

“Good.Good.We’re glad to see that we could help. Unfortunately,
we have come here to discuss the arrangement that was made 3 months ago
today.Such unpleasantness, I know.But business is business.”

“Arrangement, what arrangement?I tried to find your bar…it’s nothing but a
vacant lot.”She squirmed in her
seat.“I asked around and they said the
bar had burned down 20 years ago.”She
then remembered the old man she met on the street that day, the one who looked so
familiar.It was James.

“Tsk, tsk,” one of them answered.“The first rule of ‘Murphy’s Bar’ is that you
don’t talk about ‘Murphy’s Bar – did
I get that right?”

“No.You’re quoting ‘Fight
Club’, I heard one of the kids talk about it as they passed over us.The point is the same though.”That was Terry, she remembered him as the bartender.

“Regardless. A deal is a deal.It’s time to pay up.”

A piece of paper was handed to her, the bottom of which
contained her signature – sloppy and slanted – but her signature nonetheless.

“I don’t understand,” said Emily.“What deal?”

“Read the contract, you stupid girl.”

Emily looked back down at the paper, trying to read the tiny
writing.She could only make out one
paragraph in full.But that was enough:

“…herein states that the below
signee has agreed to accept the sum of ten thousand US Dollars.In exchange for this sum, the below signee
agrees to the terms of the contract herein, which designates that the signee
must forfeit their human body to Murphy, Inc., 90 days from the date on this
contract…”

Emily shook her head and looked
up at the congregation in front of her.“What
does this mean?” she asked?

“Well, my pet, it means – in a
nutshell – we own your ass.”

“Here’s the Cliffs Notes version.
You came in to ‘Murphy’s’, talked to all of us fine folk and, after some negotiation,
agreed to the contract.You see, we can’t
be free until we find someone to take our spot.You agreed to our most generous offer.Pretty simple, really.”

“But, but, but I wasn’t in my
right mind. I was drunk and I was depressed.Surely this couldn’t stand up in any court…,” Emily broke off, realizing
just how stupid she sounded trying to reason legalities with immoral ghosts.

***

She found herself in over her head, literally.Buried in a box under the vacant lot of ‘Murphy’s
Bar’.She wasn’t sure who was going to take her
body over, but she knew her air was quickly running out.Screams would mean nothing, and she had
played her last hand.